Common Enemy (being rewritten)
by MyMagicalBlueSocks
Summary: Desmond, under Templar Abstergo and GENTEK command, is told to kill Dana Mercer. Too bad no one warned him about Alex Mercer. Alex/Desmond. Events are after PROTOTYPE, after ACI and sometime during ACII ProtoCreed
1. Chapter 1

**COMMON ENEMY**

WARNINGS: The characters will most probably be OOC but I'll honestly try my best. My knowledge is limited. I played ACI years ago and only just recently replayed ACII.

Summary: Desmond, under Templar (Abstergo and GENTEK) command, is told to kill Dana Mercer. Too bad no one warned him about Alex Mercer. Alex/Desmond. (Events are after PROTOTYPE, after ACI and sometime during ACII)

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Desmond leaned forward to rest his elbows on the bar, his loose sleeves sliding away from his wrists as he clasped his hands together, peering around the room with half lidded eyes. From what he had seen of the clock just a few moments earlier, it was nearing one in the morning and although you may think that Desmond would be tired, his eyes were strangely bright and alert, contrasting the exhaustion on his face. He was sleepy and, goddamnit, he wanted to lie down and not wake up for a couple of days or so.

He rapidly blinked as he almost lost his balance on the bar, straightening up. He had started to get too comfortable lately, he mused, pushing himself away from the bar as someone loudly requested for some alcoholic drink or another. The sounds just blurred together along with the thumping music, shouting and conversations. But he couldn't lose focus now. Not when he was so close to his target.

Lucy would throw a fit if he screwed up now and he grimaced to himself at the mental image of her screeching as he pushed the beverage across to the drunk man he recognised as a regular. When the man staggered away with the drink, Desmond let his nose wrinkle with distaste as his mind dredged up the sarcastic comments that Shaun would chuck in his direction if he managed to mess up almost two months worth of careful planning.

"Why the miserable face?" A chipper voice suddenly asked and it startled him, sending his observer into a fit of giggles as Desmond lifted his eyes. His heart caught in his throat and he almost choked. Sitting on the chair against the bar just opposite him, was his target, Dana A. Mercer. He couldn't just blurt out her name though, and when he didn't respond to her question, her giggles faded to a look of concern.

"Hey...Hey, Desmond? Desmond? Are you okay?"

Desmond felt himself start at hearing his name and she swore. "Desmond is your name, right? I mean its right there on your clothes, I just assumed..."

His nametag was on his uniform! Desmond swallowed thickly, before putting on a smile. "I'm fine. Just the day getting to me, early mornings and late working nights." He gestured around himself with an expression close to a smirk. "So, you know my name. Do I get to know yours?"

Dana giggled almost sweetly as Desmond leaned forward on his elbows on the bar, bringing himself closer to her. "Dana. You can call me Dana."

"Well, what can I get you Dana?"

"Oh, nothing yet. I'm waiting for someone."

Desmond felt something settle like a stone in his stomach. It would be much harder to take Mercer out if she was going to be with someone. He didn't like to kill bystanders. Still, with a reasonably controlled voice, he conversationally asked, "This someone a boyfriend?" He let his hands move, preparing a drink that he could make without looking.

"No, no just waiting for my...brother. Sociopath that he is, I decided that he needed time outside." Dana laughed again. "Here's me, I haven't even had a drink and I'm almost speaking my life story."

Desmond chuckled himself and pushed the alcoholic drink he had made across the bar towards her. Before she could question it, he let the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. "This one is my treat. Just don't tell my boss."

Dana let a smile play about her lips yet as she reached for the drink Desmond had offered her, a hand intersected hers and swiped the glass up. Desmond bristled gently at not having heard the approach of the newcomer over the pounding of the bass in the background. With his senses trained to be almost inhumane, Desmond didn't like this development.

"Alex, you actually came." Desmond heard the smile in Dana's voice rather than visibly seeing it as his eyes were on Alex. The man was noticeable and dangerous looking, he'd give him that. Had the whole 'dark, tall and mysterious' thing going on, what, with his several layers and a hood flipped up to obscure his face.

"Desmond, this is Alex," Dana declared and effectively regaining Desmond's attention as she spoke. "He's my brother. Sorry if he's intimidating." The smile on her face seemed a little forced and Desmond filed that away as questionable.

Desmond shook his head at her with a reassuring smile of his own. "I'm pretty sure I've seen worse. Can I get you a drink now?" His eyes were drawn to a tap down the bar and he tried to pretend that he didn't notice that 'Alex' had tilted his head towards the noise as well.

"Sure, since Alex stole the one you made for me before. I – Desmond?"

"Sorry, you'll have to excuse me." Desmond pushed away from the bar and turned to start walking away. Before he could get anywhere, Alex had stood and caught his wrist over the bar. Desmond felt himself tense and he stiffened, staring down the length of the bar rather than at the strange man who had caught his wrist. He was desperately trying to stifle his 'fight or flight' instincts, which demanded he punched Alex in the face.

"Can I help you?" Shit. His voice sounded forced, unnatural. Boxy.

"Another one." Alex's voice was husky and deep, something that Desmond noticed straight away. With the bluntness of the answer, he had no choice but to turn and face him, letting the frown crinkle his brow. "Another one?"

"Of the drink." Alex's voice sounded almost forced itself, as if he was unused to holding a conversation. "Another one."

Comprehension crossed Desmond's face as he realised what the man wanted, and he let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Sure. Just give me a moment to sort something out."

Whoever had wanted his attention before called his name loudly over the cacophony of music and sound. The surroundings quietened down for a moment before the bass picked up again. Desmond moved to walk away but Alex's grip was still on his wrist, almost uncomfortably tight.

Desmond turned to give him a questioning look and the man seemed to cotton on, letting go of his wrist slowly and sinking back into his seat, staring at Desmond even as he walked down the bar. He completely ignored the questions Dana started peppering in his direction.

Desmond was at the other end of the bar by now, feeling the horrible prickle that he associated with the knowledge someone was staring at him. He ignored this in favour of serving the man in front of him, Shaun, who was obviously here for some reason or another.

Shaun said nothing and neither did Desmond, who watched his hands as he made the drink. He distinctly noticed the smell of alcohol on Shaun's breath, how his weight was slouched against the bar, how his cheeks were flushed a little. It was all a ruse.

As Desmond slid the drink across the bar, he let a note of concern enter his voice, even if it sounded false. "Are you sure you should be drinking, sir? From what I've seen, you've had a -" even though he knew it was coming, he still ended up biting the inside of his cheek by accident and drawing blood when Shaun's fist slammed into his jaw.

"I'll decide when I've had enough to drink you bastard," Shaun jeered out in a very convincing slur, eyes narrowed in faux anger. Desmond knew really what to think about the situation. The folded piece of paper was scratchy against his chest where it had been dropped down the collar of his shirt during Shaun's punch. The blood dripping from his mouth would be enough to let him excuse himself from the bar to wash up and read the note.

Touching his tongue to the inside of his cheek he hissed softly at the sting that accompanied the movement. Rather than watching the concern start to mount in Shaun's eyes, he walked away back down the bar towards Dana and Alex. The former was watching him with wide and horrified eyes.

"Oh, geez, Desmond, are you okay?" Dana's voice was clearly worried and Desmond forced a grin, wincing rather noticeably as he felt split skin on his lip stretch. "I'll be fine. I'll get your drinks ready unless you're worried about blood..."

"I'm not worried about blood, I'm worried about you. Does that happen often?"

"People always get rowdy when they're drunk." Desmond's eyes crossed the room and alighted briefly on Shaun's back. He realised Alex was staring in the same direction and before Dana could reply to Desmond, Alex spoke instead.

"Do you want me to do something about him?" his voice was almost soft yet it was grating this time, as if he was struggling to hold in emotion. His eyes had flashed an icy blue, a colour that had Desmond holding in a shudder.

Dana's hand was on Alex's arm the moment after and she shook her head hurriedly. "He said it happens all the time. He should be fine. Get cleaned up Desmond. We can wait for our drinks, right Alex?"

"Ah..."

Desmond grinned weakly, wincing again at the pain in his mouth and _damn_ he had to stop smiling until the wound in his lip was gone; it hurt like a bitch. He walked to where the bar met wall and slipped underneath the slab of some sort of stone material that separated the bar from the patrons.

When he was in the bathroom on the other side of the large room, slipping his way between the bodies along the way, he locked himself into a cubicle and pulled the letter out from his shirt, unfolding it out and smoothing it against the door to the particular toilet he was in.

_We're bailing out. Dana Mercer is no longer the target. Avoid the brother, Alex Mercer, he's dangerous. Act natural, keep at your job until we get you out there. We need to leave Manhattan. Give us two days. Questions will be answered when we leave. Don't mention to Vidic you haven't carried out the contract. By the way, he is demanding a session tonight. From three until noon. _

_Make up some bull about needing to leave. Hopefully you've been hit hard enough to complain and leave. Vidic doesn't like to be left waiting. _

_-S and L._

Desmond held in the growl that threatened to leave him and he crumpled up the note tightly in his fist, dropping it into the toilet and flushing, before grabbing a large wad of tissue and opened the door. He bumped straight into something solid, warm and _hard._ It almost knocked him back, had a hand not gripped the front of his work apron to keep him up.

"Dana became worried when you didn't come out at first." Alex said monotonously as he looked down at the bartender, noting the swelling of his jaw, the bubble of blood at his left nostril and the angry wound in his lip.

"Ah..." Desmond grimaced. "I'm sorry to worry her. Just wondering if the boss would have a fit if I asked to leave my shift early. Getting punched in the face tends to put a damper on my mood." He moved to step back, but the hand fisted tighter in his apron as Alex vehemently refused to let him move.

"Is there something wrong?"

"...No. Nothing is wrong." Alex let him go and watched as Desmond gave him a wary look before he moved to the sink, letting the water run. When the water ran warm, Desmond dipped the wad of tissues into the water and dabbed it around his mouth and nose, wincing at the sting in his lip and swearing. He was almost desperately trying to ignore the feeling of being stared at by the imposing man behind him.

Using the grimy mirror as reference, he dabbed off as much blood as he could before pushing away from the sink and walking towards the door where the distinct thump of music was clearly heard. He was about to pull it open when Alex came up behind him, slamming his hand onto the door to keep it pressed closed, his body almost too close to Desmond's own.

"What are you planning with my sister?" Desmond felt his muscles and spine stiffen as the breath brushed his ear and Desmond couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm a bartender. I serve drinks, I offer an ear for listening and I chit-chat. What do you think I could want?"

"What are you planning?" Alex hissed it this time, and as Desmond tried to duck away, his hand slammed up on the other side of the man's head. He was staring at his hair, trying to bore holes through the back of Desmond's skull, mentally trying to drag out his thoughts.

"Nothing. I would swear on my life if you need me to, but I'm not planning anything." Desmond twisted within the cage of Alex's arms, forced to peer up at Alex because of his greater height. "I don't know the woman. She's just a customer like everyone else." Desmond felt more than saw Alex relax and the man stepped back, though not before giving him a close one over.

Desmond dragged his hand across his mouth, wincing as he dribbled out more blood when Alex suddenly asked, making Desmond flinch because exactly _when_ had this stranger become so chatty?

"What really went on with you and that man? He gave you a...sympathetic look as he walked away."

Desmond 'tch'ed' and gave Alex a look bordering on 'dirty'. "Any reason why you need to know?"

"Merely curiosity. My sister has gained an interest in you. I don't want you to be a threat to her."

Desmond made a sneer twist his upper lip and he felt blood dribble from the wound. "That man was a sour ex who couldn't handle the fact that I couldn't give him sex because of my late hours. Happy?"

Alex blinked at him, faint shock briefly passing his face and Desmond quickly stepped out into the bar, hoping to lose himself into the crowd so he wouldn't have to face any more awkwardness. By the time he got near the counter, he saw that Dana had gotten a drink, presumably having been served by someone else.

Quickly, he slipped under the slab that separated him from the others in the bar and tossed a careful smile towards Dana. "Hey. Sorry I couldn't get you that drink. I see someone else served you, however. I won't be staying long enough to get you drunk." Desmond chuckled as Dana smiled slightly at that, before he continued, "So how about me and you get together tomorrow for a late lunch at around about two?"

Dana's smile was warm. "Sure. Sounds good. Did...did Alex do something? I asked him to check on you just in case because that looked painful and...Alex can be a bit different."

"It was fine. Don't worry." Desmond obsessively wiped his mouth. "I'll see you tomorrow Dana." He gave her some directions to a quaint little cafe nearby to the bar and had the delight of seeing her smile brightly as she recognised the place he described, nodding quickly. "I'll meet you there!"

Desmond rifled through his apron and found a pad of paper he kept in case it had to take numerous drinks orders and soon after found a pen in the same pocket. He quickly scribbled down his number onto the crinkled paper and pushed it across to Dana. "In case you need to contact me."

"I'll text you to give you my number," Dana chuckled quietly. "Call me if anything comes up too." She blushed gently, tucking her short hair away from her face.

Desmond nodded. "I'll see you around then." He figured it wouldn't hurt to be connected to Dana Mercer just in case it came to be that he did have to kill the young woman. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. He was getting attached, and to be honest, her brother freaked him the fuck out.

Speaking of the brother, Desmond barely held in a flinch as Alex all but materialised in the seat next to Dana. Dana gave him an odd look and Desmond gave some rushed goodbyes, slipping off his apron and walking towards the door that led to the back of the building and the employee's area of the bar.

He swore he could feel those icy blue eyes on his back every step he took. He was glad to be out.

* * *

><p>When Desmond opened his eyes from the Animus, he could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest and his throat was thick and felt dry. He could still feel the cold bite of the blade slicing into him. Ezio and Altair had the most vivid of lives.<p>

He just desperately hoped the Bleeding Effect wouldn't kick in during his time with Dana Mercer.

"It's nice to see you join the world of the living, Desmond. How long were you hoping to stay in the Animus?" Shaun commented bluntly.

Desmond shot him a dry look and tried to ignore the fact of how the British man looked _so_ much like Malik just then, giving him a disapproving look and he abruptly shook his head, missing the look of concern Shaun gave him.

"I'm going to shower and get changed. I have to meet up with Dana."

Shaun frowned deeply, glancing around to see if they were alone before murmuring, "Did you not get my note? It's off."

"Vidic reminded me while I was getting hooked up that Dana Mercer is still to be assassinated, Shaun."

"Damnit Desmond, you could die if you go after Dana Mercer! Her brother is a fucking psychopath and a monster; he'll kill you if you go after his sister! He tore apart Manhattan a couple of years back in the whole 'virus' scare. You know whole the terrorist thing? 'Zeus' and the BLACKLIGHT virus?"

"I'll be fine Shaun. I doubt he'll know it's me if I do end up killing his sister."

"You're good Desmond, but you aren't that good yet. Just back out now."

"I think I'm more afraid of Vidic than someone I've only seen once before, in a dark club no less," Desmond admitted and Shaun's expression softened. "I know Desmond, just...bloody hell, if you die; you put us all out of a job and in Vidic's wrath."

Desmond chuckled weakly and shook his head as he walked away a little stiffly. Sessions that were extended in the Animus left him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

When he was in the shower, fifteen minutes later, his phone went off. Tucking a towel around him, he picked up the mobile on the windowsill and answered it with a, "Hello?"

"_Desmond? Oh, good, i was terrified this was the wrong number even though you gave it to me."_ It was Dana. _"Is it okay if we have a change of plans? Alex wants to come with us. I told him if he didn't want to he didn't have to, but bless, he's worried for me."_

"Uh, sure...I don't mind if he comes along. The more the merrier I suppose." Desmond winced as he sorted out the towel he'd slung around his waist.

"_Thank you! Please, this is really important for me. Do you need us to pick you up?"_

"Nah, the cafe is in walking distance of my apartment, I'll be there in time. Just make sure you two show up." Desmond murmured his goodbyes before setting his phone down and walking towards the door that led to his bedroom. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't left the Farm, if he hadn't have been caught by Abstergo. He always wondered. It didn't get him anywhere.

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><p>It was halfway to the cafe that the Bleeding Effect kicked in. He came to a jerky stop in the street as a horse shot passed, followed by half a dozen more, Templars screeching their indignation, shouts of <em>'Stop the assassin!'<em> Who was it at? Altair? Ezio...? Probably the latter. The Italian was flashy, more so than the older Master assassin. Less subtle.

He let himself stumble down a side alley to gather his bearings, closing his eyes against the sounds of invisible swords clashing and the cries of pain. He let his eyes flicker open as there was a stifled shriek that sounded closer to real than the Bleeding Effect could ever make. Desmond frowned, mentally weighing his options. He could always be late the cafe, if there was nothing there then at least his conscience would be light knowing he had thought to check the fact that someone might have been in danger.

The moment he turned the corner, something sharp slammed into the wall next to his head, barely skimming his ear. A quick glance up showed that the sharp projectile was thin and long, like a wooden spear but was black, red and...and attached to Alex Mercer?

To say Alex looked stunned would be an understatement. He was staring at Desmond with an almost comical expression on what was visible of his face, bright blue eyes wide and shock clearly in his features. Alex's mouth slowly opened as he pulled back the sharp and extended limb. When he began speaking, he started walking towards Desmond. "I can explain. Please, give me the chance to explain." His voice was strained and the look on his face was almost odd, as if he wasn't used to speaking with a tone of worry.

Desmond barely heard him. Everything around his was fading in and out of colour. When Alex reached for him he honestly didn't mean to grab his wrist, yank, and throw him to the floor by pitching his weight, using the older man's height against him. He really didn't mean it.

Alex responded automatically, shoving the Desmond firmly against the wall, hand jerking to wrap around his throat as his free hand formed a sharp claw which he pressed the side of to Desmond's cheek in warning. He would have cleaved flesh from the man's skull, whether or not Dana was fond of him when he saw the glazed expression on Desmond's face, how his lips moved quickly in whispers.

"Desmond Miles?" Alex finally asked, hand loosening around his throat and the clawed hand reverting to normal. He narrowed his eyes as Desmond's eyes met his and, with a noticeably thick Italian accent, Desmond sharply replied, _"Idiota._ My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze. I am not this 'Desmond Miles' that you speak of." He sneered at the thought, ignoring the look of confusion that crossed Alex's face as Alex cocked his head.

It only lasted for a few moments, however, because Desmond suddenly blinked, looking tired before he peered questioningly up at Alex. "Uh...hey?"

"Who is Ezio?" Alex asked sharply and straight off, noting how Desmond paled and then swore, lifting his hand to his head. "Fuck...whatever I did, I'm so sorry. Fuck, I should've asked for a goddamn break..." his voice had lowered at the end, the intent for his words to only be heard by himself. Alex picked up on them nevertheless.

Desmond decided to scratch the side of his head and then sighed heavily. "I think I have to give you an explanation. Could we find your sister and then go somewhere..._secure_ to speak?"

"What is it you need to say that can't be said here to me?"

"A lot, I don't want to be outside and your sister is part of this." Desmond hesitated before adding, "Can you move your hand from my face?" For some odd reason he found the fact that Alex was cupping his face with his hand was more unnerving than the fingers hovering menacingly by his throat.

Alex's eyes drifted away from Desmond's own to focus on the hand that was currently pressed to the younger man's face. "This gives me an advantage if you attempt to attack me again."

"I wasn't trying to attack you," Desmond got out between grit teeth. "It was someone else that I was after." He twitched gently as the hand pressed firmer against his cheek and he saw Alex smirk at him almost condescendingly.

Desmond went as if to speak before his phone began ringing. Keeping his eyes on Alex's face, he slowly reached towards his pocket and pulled out his phone, sneaking a glance at the screen to see who it was. "It's your sister."

Instead of moving his hand from Desmond's face, Alex chose to pluck the phone from Desmond's hand with the limb that had been by the assassin's throat, and he quickly answered the incoming call.

"Dana. I am with Desmond. Go home, we will meet you there." Alex waited as he was answered before sighing. "It will be explained when we get there." Before his sister could answer he ended the call and shoved the phone into Desmond's hoodie pocket, moving his hand to Desmond's hip. Ignoring the splutter that Desmond gave, he threw him over his shoulder and crouched, thinking ahead enough to murmur a; "Hold onto my jacket," and then he launched from the alley and onto the roof of the building nearest to them, teetering a moment on the edge before he broke into a sprint.

And no. He didn't find it funny that Desmond gave a squeal more befitting of a girl about twenty years his junior. It wasn't funny at all.

Five minutes later had Alex setting Desmond back down on his feet in the apartment that he and Dana 'shared'. He had the decency, though he didn't know why he did it, to guide Desmond to the couch and gently sit him down as he staggered for balance. When Desmond was sat and peering around the room blearily, Alex stepped back to lean against the corner of the room, keeping an eye on the other male as he waited for his sister to arrive.

When she did arrive, he ignored her inquisitive look and he simply murmured, "Desmond has something he wishes to explain." His eyes were still on the younger man who had eventually gathered his bearings, sitting stiffly on the couch with his back ramrod straight.

"Speak." Alex narrowed his eyes after a few moments of Desmond's silence and the assassin sighed softly.

"As you know, I am Desmond Miles. I just want you to listen to me and not judge me. I am an Assassin. My current target is Dana Mercer."

With just those few words, all hell broke loose. Alex threw himself at Desmond who all but propelled himself over the back of the couch and out of the way of the furious virus, quickly backpedalling himself towards the window as the couch he was originally on was torn into shreds. "Listen to me!" He shouted and was promptly ignored as the same black and red tendrils from before snaked towards him and wrapped tightly around his ankle.

_Too tight!_ Desmond winced before grimacing as he fell backwards, narrowly missing the wall. His head almost smashed off of the windowsill but he was more concerned with the fact that Alex was crouching over him and was _heavy_ as he pressed the tip of a claw neatly to his cheek, enough to draw blood.

Dana was shrieking and had moved to Alex as quick as she could, tugging insistently at his arm to try and pull him away, though it proved to be futile. "Let him explain Alex! If he'd have wanted to kill me he would have already, you should know that!"

Alex snarled. "Give me a reason why I should let him live!"

"Give him a chance to explain himself Alex! He's asked for us to listen!"

Alex gave a low, angry noise, but didn't move away from Desmond, keeping the sharp, transformed hand close to the man's face. "Speak."

Desmond swallowed thickly, eyes darting between the sharp limb too close to his cheek and Alex's face. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to aggravate the older male. "Yes, Dana Mercer is my target, but that is because of the control that is set over me. Have you heard of Abstergo?" He neither got confirmation or denial from Alex, just the continuous hard glare of ice blue eyes.

Desmond swallowed once more and licked his lips before he continued speaking, his voice level and measured. "Abstergo is run by the 'Templars'. These are the same people that control GENTEK." Desmond closed his eyes, missing the look of shock that crossed Alex's face at this news. "Surely you know who _they_ are. At the moment, my hands are tied. My life, the lives of thousands of others are in the hands of the Templars. I have no choice but to listen to them, to do as they would command of me. I don't want to kill your sister. If I had the choice, I wouldn't be here."

Alex slowly let his hand revert to normal, though his fingers were still pressed into Desmond's cheek. His body was also hovering over the smaller form of the man below him, but now he was watching the man with a contemplative expression, judging his words.

"I believe him," Dana suddenly and boldly confessed. "Desmond seems like a nice guy. Why don't you let him up Alex, I'll make some coffee and Desmond can explain this further. I wouldn't mind knowing a little more, and obviously he has the answers. Like a goldmine of information."

Alex peered over his shoulder at Dana before he lifted himself off of Desmond. He gave the man a sharp glare and then begrudgingly offered Desmond a hand up.

Desmond watched the offered hand and then shook his head, slowly pushing himself up. "Don't force yourself for your sister's sake. If you hate me, you hate me." He gave a wry smile. "You can't always please everyone." He dusted himself off as he stood and sighed, stretching himself out slowly. His movement froze, however, as Alex reached out to brush his thumb to Desmond's cheek, catching the blood that had swelled from the cut he had caused from his claws.

"Hate is a strong word, Desmond Miles. I have dislike for you, and wariness of you, but you do not seem an immediate threat. As Dana has said, if you were going to kill her, you could have done so already." Alex tilted his head as he kept his thumb pressed gently against Desmond's face. "In fact I think I'll have to admit that I do not hate you at all."

Desmond was left staring after him with bewilderment as the scientist turned BLACKLIGHT virus moved to start cleaning up the mess that had once been the couch.

* * *

><p><strong>DISCLAIMER: <strong>I do not own Assassin's Creed or PROTOTYPE. They belong to UBISOFT and ACTIVISION respectively.

**Author's Note:**

So, this is my first fanfiction! I've never played PROTOTYPE before so I hope that I didn't ruin Alex or Dana...as it is I know that I've probably messed up Shaun and Desmond, though I wanted to twist their attitudes to match the situation that I've placed them in, i.e. being under Templar rule with no visible way out yet. I hope you enjoyed, and yes, this will (eventually) become an 'Alex/Desmond' pairing hopefully, if I get that far and develop it enough.

Apologies if any of my information is wrong, I've pulled it out of the PROTOTYPE and Assassin Creed Wikis...

I'm trying to make Alex quiet and refined because he's trying to stay 'incognito' as it were. He doesn't want to get noticed, since after the worst of the Infection, people started to move into Manhattan and not as many know him. He's also very fiercely protective of his 'sister' Dana, because of the events that happened before. (The time she was in a coma, the Hunters, etc.)

If you have any advice on how I could portray the characters from PROTOTYPE or even Assassin's Creed, it would be greatly appreciated. Ciao!


	2. Chapter 2

**COMMON ENEMY**

**Author's Note:**

So, I got some reviews! And positive ones nonetheless! Because of this, I would like to give thanks to the following users who were kind enough to leave me a message.

They are:

**Ayazani: **Thank you for reviewing! I was honestly beginning to think that nobody would review, even though they _were_ adding the stories to their favourites and alerts. While I haven't played Prototype (And I envy you) I have read up on the Wiki of the game, and, of course, found the familiar word 'Templars', who are linked to GENTEK in Prototype and Abstergo in Assassin's Creed. This opened a lot of possibilities. Honestly, you liking my Desmond, Alex and Dana has made me glad because I wasn't too sure if I had portrayed them right. As for your advice on Dana, I'll try and give her a more forward attitude in this chapter. I will take your advice and keep calm while carrying on but just so you know, if I was your wayward anything, I would be your wayward daughter.

**Future Dictator Inc: **Thank you to you as well! I was excited enough getting a first review, but a second? You really made my day when I checked my account and saw that the number had gone up. Now I know that at least you and another think this story is good I'm glad that my worrying over my writing style was probably unneeded to some degree. I've updated as soon as possible and I hope you like this chapter.

**SnippetCuts: **No, no, thank _you_ for taking the time to write out a review. I was very unsure while writing the chapter due to how the characters might have come out, and I still have that fear even now while I write this chapter because the characters may be different than before. I'm glad you believe that the first chapter is promising and I sincerely hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. The plot, admittedly, is still a work in progress, but I have an outline of how this story _will_ turn out. I can't really tell you anything, I don't want to ruin anything, assuming you carry on reading this story.

I also want to give some thanks to those that favourite and alerted this story. The usernames are in Alphabetical Order:

Favourites:  
><strong>Ayazani<br>Dark Hunter of the Forbidden  
>Elizabeth Marcer<br>Fancy Jumper  
>Future Dictator Inc<br>Hootinan  
>MoonBeamerGirl1644<br>Pixelshadow  
>TheSeqel<strong>

Alerts:  
><strong>Amon2<strong>  
><strong>AngelWithNoWings1996<br>Ayazani  
>FallenBlueRose<br>Fancy Jumper  
>Future Dictator Inc<br>Hootinan  
>LostShadowSoul<br>SaxophonesBassi  
>SnippetCuts<br>strawberry26  
>TheViolentHorror<br>Toastzilla**

A genuine thanks to everyone who showed interest and therefore support in my first story :D. Next time, I won't make this note as long, hopefully. With nothing for me left to say, I give you Chapter Two of _Common Enemy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Desmond was sat cross legged on the floor of the apartment, opposite the coffee table. It had to be the floor considering the state that Alex had reduced the sofa to. Dana was on the other side of the table, watching his face with rapt attention, and Alex was sat next to Desmond himself, so close he could feel the heat radiating from the man? Virus? He still wasn't sure. All he knew was that the presence of the older male was a little disconcerting. Obviously Alex saw him as a threat, but the man (Desmond had decided on 'man' because at the very least Alex looked like one) _transformed_ his body parts and shot _tentacles_ (Desmond was very uncomfortable with that word because of what could be implied and decided he would dub them as 'the fucking scary and numerous tendrils of Biomass') from god knows where. Desmond was little danger to him and he probably knew it. Perhaps it was a kink the man had, scaring the life from others simply by sitting too close.

Desmond reached forward slowly, giving Alex _no_ reason to grab him like he had five minutes earlier, and took hold of his warm mug where his drink of black coffee was still letting off curls of steam because it was cooling off. Sharp eyes intently watched his every movement, and slim pale fingers twitched in their owners lap, the man obviously itching to grasp at Desmond's bare wrist with his long digits, yet again, for apparently no reason other than that Desmond had decided to move.

Eventually, Dana seemed to have had enough with the silence which Desmond was glad for and blurted out just one word; "Spill."

"I don't know where to start." Desmond nursed his mug, sipping from it slowly and letting the bitter liquid spread over his tongue before he swallowed, not wanting to burn himself. "Ask for something specific, something concrete and I'll tell you if I can answer it."

"Okay then. I ask for _everything_ Desmond. Every last little detail you can give to me. Don't spare the blood and gore or the nitty-gritty stuff. Give it to me. All of it."

"You're an Investigative Reporter then, huh?" Desmond asked, gently placing his mug back down on the table. He ignored how Alex had tensed next to him and how Dana had jumped in surprise at his knowing her profession. Desmond grinned wryly. "You _were_ my assassination target Dana. I had to know a lot about you. Favourite foods, favourite hangouts, blood type, how many times you had been to the hospital, your jobs, every article you'd ever written and even exes. Information is a key factor in a job such as the one I am unwittingly a part of. You probably couldn't have even have gone shopping without us knowing."

The corner of Dana's mouth twitched down as if she was about to grimace or frown, her eyes remaining wide, almost hurt and Desmond winced. "I'm sorry if I was insensitive in anyway. I, uh, probably shouldn't have said that but...its information you want, right? Have you ever heard of the 'First Civilisation'?"

Dana noticeably relaxed at the subject change, but both curiosity and confusion lit up on her face at the question he had asked even as her shoulders gently sagged. "No, I haven't heard about anything like that before. Are you talking about the Aztecs or something?"

Desmond sighed. He realised he was going to be in for a long day and sincerely wondered if he would be missed at the bar should he not show up. He didn't even know what time he had to return to Abstergo for. It wouldn't be fun explaining where he had been.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb, Desmond took in a deep breath, letting his other hand run over his head as he ducked it gently, staring at the floor between his cross legs. "Let me start at the beginning...This all began when the First Civilisation came to Earth. From there, things progressively got from bad to worse..."

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><p>Several hours later at some time Desmond couldn't be bothered checking, he had finally told most of what he knew, both from his own his own knowledge and from his ancestors' memories. As a result, he'd gotten through about six cups of coffee, a glass of water and two painkillers (for a headache that had come on as Ezio and Altair both tried to force themselves to the forefront of his mid) as well as some toast and biscuits that Dana had helpfully provided when his stomach had growled loudly. "Now the Templars want to gather the information I'm learning from Altair and Ezio so they can find the Pieces of Eden."<p>

"But wait, didn't you say these Pieces of Eden let the person who holds them have these, like, crazy powers?" Dana asked, brow crinkling gently as she stood in the doorway, stirring a coffee she had made for herself. "It's like something out of a book or a movie." Her hands were shaking just slightly and she looked as exhausted as Desmond felt.

Desmond nodded weakly, stretching slowly and wincing as something in his back cracked loudly from the movement and he slumped against Alex's side. He didn't even _know_ when he had first started leaning against the man and quite frankly didn't care. He was warm, comfortable and goddamnit, Desmond could relax against him, something he was grateful for. He didn't even care that every now and then, Alex would lift his hand and curiously touch Desmond's hair or dance his fingers down his spine in carefully gentle strokes, as if he was some sort of dog or cat or something that you could pet without thinking about it.

"That's the reason why they – The Templars – want the Apple of Eden, Dana. It lets the person holding it control the wills of everyone near them. They think they can save the world by controlling it, not as if I believe that they'd do any good in my opinion. The Assassin's are against that view. _I'm_ against that view."

"And you're an assassin?"

"Yes." Desmond nodded. "I am an assassin. I'm not really officially trained, only a little at the farm, but I gained my skills from running through the sequences of Altair's and Ezio's memories. Though, to be honest, I'm not sure if I can – "

"Ezio." Alex suddenly spoke, interrupting him, and Desmond all but jumped straight out his skin because he hadn't expected the man to speak. The deep voice sounding from right next to him, close enough for Desmond to _feel_ Alex say the word as it reverberated through his chest was startling. Alex hadn't made so much as a noise for the entire time Desmond and Dana had been throwing questions and answers back and forth apart from his soft breathing, which would hitch when something offensive was mentioned.

"What about him?" Desmond finally asked, moving to twist himself and lean his elbow on the coffee table to face Alex, trying to keep an indifferent expression on his face.

"Why is it that you said you were him when I met you in that alleyway? I understand enough that you enter the memories, yet..." Alex let an eyebrow arch in question, the motion visible even with his hood covering his head.

Desmond sighed and twisted again to rest both of his elbows on the coffee table this time, head in his hands. "I use the Animus, that machine I told you about, to access the memories. You understand enough from what I've told you, or so you've told me, but it's not just the memories. I _am_ the person, I am living through the memories, experiencing them. Sometimes I'm forced into the Animus for hours at a time, and other times, when Vidic is in a foul mood, or wants information, I'm in for days at a time. I start to suffer through something called the Bleeding Effect because of prolonged exposure. That's why I said I was Ezio."

"The Bleeding Effect?" Dana jumped onto this new phrase straight away, ready to leech even more information out of Desmond if it were possible, despite the new and almost impossible things running through her head right at this moment.

"I get...confused." Desmond wasn't entirely sure how to explain it, frowning a little to himself as he ran his fingers over his head.

"Confused?" Alex asked the question this time, absently reaching out to touch Desmond's hair for the umpteenth time, not even fazed as he accidentally brushed his fingertips against Desmond's fingers.

Desmond snatched his hand back as if he had been badly burnt. It was if Alex had no concept of 'personal space' but he didn't dwell on this thought, focusing on answering the question. "Yes, confused. Memories overlap from Altair and Ezio with my own. I don't know what is mine and what is theirs. Sometimes I don't know who I am, like an identity crisis. I see men and women that have been dead for centuries, I feel phantom pains for injuries that I have never had. I know Arabic and Italian when I have never learnt the language."

Desmond sat back, ending up leaning against Alex's side again, though this time he scooted across so he had no contact with him anymore, pressing his face to his hands, not caring if his voice was muffled. "And sometimes, when the memories are the strongest, the personalities _of_ Ezio and Altair take over. I don't understand why it happens and I can't really complain or question it, so I learn to live with it." Desmond lifted his head and moved to touch the scar that was ever present on his lips as he held in the urge to give a bitter laugh. "And live with it I have. What other choice do I even have?"

Dana was frowning by this point and Desmond was forced to swallow the bile that had risen in his throat at seeing the pity in her expression, biting back a snippy response to just that one look. He was defensive, he couldn't get around that. He had suffered, he understood the consequences, and yet he hated what people felt for him when faced with the facts of his less than perfect life.

"Surely they shouldn't be allowed to do that. Haven't you tried to escape? From what I hear, you've got these badass assassin skills, yet you can't even run away from one man?" Eventually Dana decided it was her time to speak, failing to completely smooth the frown away from her features.

"It's just that Dana. It isn't one man, or twenty, or even a hundred. If it was like that, I would easily pick them off one by one. The Templars have their claws dug in deep everywhere you go. They have ties in with the _President_ for god's sake, pretty much controlling him like a puppet on fucking strings. It's like that everywhere, every government; every royal family has the Templars hovering about them. If I leave here then I'll be hunted down within hours, maybe even days and then never allowed to leave the building again. It took me months to gain enough of Vidic's confidence before he started giving me contracts. I would have done anything to get outside to see the sky and breathe fresh air. They drove the Subject before me insane. My bedroom was covered in his fucking _blood._ I don't want to go that way."

For the first time in hours, Dana was speechless. She was left staring at him, mouth opening and then falling shut as if words had failed her. Rubbing the back of her neck and slowly digesting what Desmond had told her, she walked further into the room to set her own coffee cup down on the table before picking up Desmond's mug and the plate that had left over toast and biscuit crumbs scattered on it. She stared at the plate for a moment as if it had answers for her and then sighed as she turned and wandered her way back into the kitchen, the sound of water flowing drifting through the doorway shortly afterwards.

Desmond was suddenly and very acutely aware of Alex's presence. It's not that he was loud; in fact he was the opposite, barely breathing or moving. However, there was something about him that drew attention and Desmond, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what it was. Hoping he wouldn't be noticed, he tried to glance at Alex from the periphery of his eye and found the man staring at him already.

A shudder ran up Desmond's spine as he quickly looked away again. He couldn't deny the fact that he still felt Alex's eyes intently focused on him and he was getting _so_ _edgy_ that there wasn't even a word to describe how he was feeling. Clearing his throat, he looked back over to Alex and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Desmond Miles."

"Then can I ask why you're staring at me like that? And it's Desmond. _Just_ Desmond. Don't stick my last name on the end, makes me feel like I'm a kid back at the Farm getting scolded or some shit like that. Job interview sort of feeling." Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he grimaced, finding it almost hard to keep eye contact with Alex in the way that he currently was. It was making him feel a little embarrassed, the back of his neck warming up.

"It isn't a crime nor harmful for you to look at you. Do I need to give you a reason for why I happen to be looking at you?" Alex moved to rest his chin in his palm. A smirk curved up on the corner of his mouth. "Or, perhaps, there is something else that is wrong?"

Desmond flinched gently, turning his head away jerkily as his cheeks flushed pink. "No. It doesn't matter. If you want to stare, then fine, stare. It's just freaky is all, most people are conscious when they're making another person uncomfortable."

"I'm not exactly normal, Desmond. If you know about Dana, surely you've had information about me. Am I right?" Alex cocked an eyebrow, moving to lean his back against the table, keeping his eyes on Desmond. "I'm not 'Alex Mercer' as it is."

"To be honest, I have little to no knowledge of you. Can I ask how that works? How _you _work? I know you're the BLACKLIGHT virus, but can I know how it happened, how it all clicks together and work?" Desmond couldn't help the tone of curiosity that filtered its way into his words.

Alex jerked his head, inviting Desmond to sit next to him and, after moments of hesitation, Desmond accepted, leaning against the table next to him, keeping a gap between them as he waited expectantly.

"Alex Mercer...the man whose body that I wear right now, whose name I keep for my own, whose voice I use and whose mannerisms I occasionally mimic has been dead for years now. I have very, very little of his memories, even after all this time that I have had within his body. When I first awoke, I was in a morgue. From there I tried to discover why Alex Mercer had been killed, why I had been turned into this...monster. Why I had been turned into this complete and utter sham of a person." Alex sneered, eyes finally dropping away from Desmond.

Desmond remained silent, swallowing slowly and looking away, feeling uncomfortable and a little threatened, if not _scared_ by the way that Alex was acting at the moment. He decided he wouldn't speak, would just let Alex say what he wanted to say, fair and square.

"From what I learned..." the corner of Alex's mouth twitched at this, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. Considering his circumstances, he probably was, and before he could continue speaking, Desmond interrupted him. "Look, it seems like to me you're uncomfortable talking about this right now, huh?"

Alex remained silent, but the grimace told Desmond everything. Desmond lifted his hand to placate him and nodded as he awkwardly patted Alex's shoulder. "I understand. I have my own situation, yes, though it probably isn't _anywhere_ near as crazy or as fucked up as yours – no offence – and just knowing you have a situation is enough to not want to talk about it. Besides, it's been hours, my ass has gone _numb_ and I don't want to be late for my job, less Vidic realise something is up." Desmond braced his hands on the table and pushed himself up from the floor on shaky legs. Beside him, Alex rose more gracefully, his long limbs unfolding as he stood.

Desmond tried not to gawk at him but failed, looking away as Alex lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at him. Desmond just gave the weak excuse of, "I was wondering how you managed to get up so easily when my legs are pretty much dead. We were sat down for the same time and..." Desmond just shrugged.

"I'm not human Desmond. I thought we'd been through this beforehand."

It was a mortifying knowledge, when you realised you were blushing, Desmond decided, and before he could stammer a response out, feeling like an utter _idiot_ Alex chuckled softly, the noise grating as if he weren't used to laughing.

Alex simply waved his hand gently and slowly at Desmond to calm him, the motion being universal for 'don't worry about it'. Desmond shut up almost instantly, coughing gently and rubbing the back of his neck (he'd been doing that a lot around Alex, he'd noticed. Nervous tick?) as he moved his other hand to pat his thigh gently. When he did speak, his voice was a little uncertain, "I...Could you bring me back to road you picked me up from? I don't know my way from here to be honest, and I probably have work soon." His eyes drifted to window where the sun was starting to dip beyond the horizon, basking the city in an orange hue.

Before Desmond had time to realise what he'd actually asked, Alex had moved his hands to Desmond's waist and thrown him over his shoulder, causing Desmond to make an 'oof' noise as the air was knocked out of him by Alex's surprisingly bony shoulder. Though he wasn't expecting it, he supposed the several layers of jacket and hoodie did hide what Alex was packing underneath – not that Desmond was interested in what he looked like under his clothes!

"Just hold on. You may also want to close your eyes," Alex said in an almost monotonous tone. His arm rest across the back of Desmond's knees, holding them to his chest as the 'fucking scary and numerous tendrils of Biomass' stretched from Alex and twisted themselves around Desmond to keep him secure. Not only was it humiliating, but Desmond felt strangely violated. It was probably his imagination that Alex's arm around his legs had the hand almost too high on his thigh.

Regardless of Desmond's thoughts, he followed through with Alex's advice, clenching his hands into the back of Alex's jacket as he closed his eyes. The vulnerability he felt wasn't welcomed. He was used to being in control, used to being able to do pretty much whatever he wanted to because other people _weren't like him._ Alex was on a whole new level on his own that Desmond didn't think anybody else could reach but Alex himself.

After a moment, with a sense of horror, he realised that Alex was going out of the _window_ and Desmond had _seen_ that the apartment they were in was crazy high. He tried to swallow the feeling he gained from his realisation and just scrunched his eyes ever harder closed as Alex threw the window open with his hand not around Desmond's legs and threw both himself and Desmond out of the window with a powerful leap.

This time Alex didn't hear so much as a squeak out of Desmond. He was a little disappointed, missing the humour from Desmond screaming earlier, but he decided that it was his subconscious that once enjoyed the fear of others as they faced him.

It took them barely a handful of minutes to arrive back in the dim alleyway where Alex had first scooped him up from and when he was set on his feet, Desmond doubled over, resting his hands on his thighs as if he needed to catch his breath. He almost flinched out of his skin when Alex's hand settled extremely gently on his lower back.

"Are you okay?" Even his voice was soft, as if he was afraid speaking too loud would break or hurt Desmond.

"Fine." Desmond chuckled weakly as he slowly moved to straighten himself up. "My stomach contents felt like they wanted to make friends with the floor." He wiped his mouth and shook his head and sorted out his hoodie. "Thanks for the, uh...the lift."

"It's fine. Will you be..." Alex trailed off before he finished his question, brow furrowing slowly as an unsure expression crossed his face (Desmond was close enough to the older man that he could see his face very clearly).

"Will I be...?" Desmond prompted, trying to read his expression. Alex was good at hiding his features by the hood and a mask of cold, normally able to fend off most attempts at seeing his feelings on his face. However, Desmond was an assassin, a title that wasn't won at all that easily and (with help from the Eagle Vision occasionally) because of his training, he was able to detect the minute changes in the other's expression.

"You are working tonight?" Alex finally asked, face schooled back into a blank expression. "I believe that's what you said."

"Most nights, Alex. Just to get out of the Abstergo building. Sure, I'm working tonight. Need me to save you a seat and a drink?" Desmond grinned at Alex and was rewarded with a faint smile, not a smirk that would occasionally cross his face, but a genuine smile. "Something similar to last night would be nice Desmond."

Desmond patted Alex's upper arm in a friendly manner, unable to wipe the most likely idiotic expression off of his face. "See you there mate. Tell Dana I'll see her around, never managed to shout her a goodbye as you manhandled me out of the window. Oh, don't worry about it, I needed to get back here quick, just tell her it was nice having a chat and that I wouldn't mind having another one."

Desmond's last sentence had been prompted by the expression of near alarm and apology that had crossed Alex's face and Desmond slowly let his hand drop from Alex's arm from where it had been awkwardly resting.

"I start work in about two hours. Feel free to come by after that time." Desmond gave another, slightly less enthusiastic than before smile and turned to walk away. He pretended that he hadn't felt the almost tender touch of fingertips that had brushed against the back of his neck as he walked out into the street.

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><p><strong>DISCLAIMER:<strong>I do not own Assassin's Creed or PROTOTYPE. They and their characters belong to UBISOFT and ACTIVISION respectively.


	3. Chapter 3

**COMMON ENEMY**

**Author's Note:**

Again, I would like to say thanks to those that reviewed the last chapter of _Common Enemy._ The names will be written in the order of which the reviews were received, not alphabetically.

**Future Dictator Inc: **Don't worry about mistakes. I have the iPhone and the autocorrects that it makes drives me up the wall. So frustrating, I understand, I find that I can't turn it off either, otherwise there will be even more mistakes. Once again I would like to thank you for reviewing the recent chapter and I'll try and get the story updated as quick as I can. Unfortunately I'm at a state where life has me stuck in a rut. Education, family, life, etc, I'm pretty busy. I hoped to make Alex's touches down low and subtle. He's only just met Desmond, and this is pretty much the closest his gotten to another person, aside from Dana, so he's just naturally curious. Plus, Desmond's past and attitude fascinates him.

**Ayazani: **I like to think I should thank you for taking the time to reply to my writing. I have confidence and self esteem issues I suppose you could call it, and when I first decided _'Yes, I'll go ahead and post this story, hope for the best' _I was scared I would get no feedback. Seeing you review was just what I needed and I'd like to let you (and other reviewers) know that _I_ know you're there. (So long as it doesn't bother you, but tell me if it does, I have the habit of saying _sorry_ and _thank you_ a lot to make sure I don't offend anyone by not acknowledging them correctly). Just so you know, I don't think you're a 'tard' as you so eloquently put it, I'm just not much of a person that listens to music past orchestral pieces or instrumental. Perhaps you would be able to give me the name of the song?  
>I updated this as quickly as I could before my schedule becomes too full. Come summertime I should have access to my laptop and the internet more freely before I go on holiday during that time. To be honest, I wasn't sure I <em>was<em> going to update too soon because I was just staring at the chapter thinking that it was far too short in comparison to the one before, as I would like to keep the amount in my chapters as equal as possible. (It's more of a quirk, though my friends enjoy calling me a perfectionist lol)  
>In regards to Dana, thanks for giving me advice on her attitude, I'm glad that I was able to structure her in a way that was adequate in your opinion (considering you have a <em>lot<em> more information than I do on the game. I have all my information from videos, a scarce few other fanfictions and the Wikipedia of the game).

**XxMidniteRosexX: **Thank you for the review. While I'm not that sure of my writing and how I set things out, I'm glad that you find this fanfiction of mine 'glorious' as it were. You're almost making me blush! I'm happy that you're enjoying my writing and I hope that this update here doesn't disappoint you. I'll continue this whenever is possible for me.

**Mitternacht: **Thank for taking the time to review. I'm pleased that you love it, and hopefully you wouldn't have had to have waited too long for this next chapter here to come out. I hope you also read and enjoyed the second chapter considering your review was for just the first chapter.

**Kichi Hisaki: **I, myself, was thinking of it as curiosity, perhaps. Alex hasn't really had the opportunity to be close to anyone in a 'friendly' manner other than his sister so he is genuinely 'curious' I suppose it is, about Desmond being so close to him without trying to kill him or without Alex having to kill him. Hope that you enjoy this chapter.

**YizelePhantom: **I'm going to have to admit that your comment made me laugh quite a lot. I'm glad that you enjoy their personalities, because I wasn't too sure of them myself. I've played no PROTOTYPE and only a little Assassin's Creed. I'm glad you've enjoyed this story so far and I hope your 'feels' are satisfied by this chapter. I don't want them to be hurt.

Favourites:  
><strong>bargar13<br>CryHOg**  
><strong>EvErYtHiNgDePeNds<br>Hichi Kisaki  
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>YizelePhantom<strong>

Alerts:  
><strong>bargar13<br>CryHOg  
>Dark Hunter of then Forbidden<br>deathskeith  
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><strong>Exodiano<br>Stormpage  
>XxMidniteRosexX<br>YizelePhantom**

I told myself I wouldn't write such a long note again, but I suppose I really can't help myself, so I'll apologise in advance that these thousand odd words just take up space and don't add to the story at all. Because of this, I'll add at the bottom how many words the story itself is, so you know how much of it is story, how much is a note. Enjoy the third chapter of _Common Enemy!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Desmond, who was by this point thanking any god and deity who may be listening, had managed to slip back into Abstergo undisturbed, changed his clothes to those of his work uniform minus the apron as that was at the bar, and quickly nipped back outside, deciding it would be in his and his health's interest to amble slowly towards the bar rather than stay and possibly encounter Vidic. As it was, he had been given a foul, yet knowing look from Shaun as he walked by.

After having a coffee and croissant as well as emptying his bladder at the cafe that he was supposed to have met Dana in that morning had events not been altered, he had filched the time off of a stranger reading a newspaper just two tables away and then started walking towards the bar, deciding by the time he got there, he would only be fifteen minutes early. They'd probably let him start then, too, because of his leaving early the previous night.

Desmond didn't even pay attention to the man that had folded away the newspaper then, settling it on the table next to an empty plate as he then proceeded to follow Desmond out of the cafe and down the street. Nothing was thought of it until Desmond had taken several turns and the man was still staying exactly the same distance away, nondescript and just as normal as anyone else. It made Desmond reach new levels of discomfort but chalked it down the discomfort. He couldn't lash out at the man in case it actually was a civilian, or in case it was a Templar or Assassin. Hitting any of the three was not high on his to do list and neither was being accused for murder should he crush the man's windpipe.

By the time that Desmond had pushed open the door to the bar, he was holding in twitches, his paranoia making him feel sick and agitated, eyes flickering about the room as he quickly ducked beneath the counter that led into the bar and alcohol area before he walked into the adjoining staffroom.

The room was uncharacteristically empty, and while it made the paranoid feeling Desmond have worsen, he was thankful that no one was in there to see his odd attitude. He pulled his apron, nametag still attached, off of a peg and pulled his head through the hole, suddenly wishing that someone _was_ there in the room, if only to tie his apron at the back.

Bowing his head forward and closing his eyes in concentration, he reached his hands back and started fiddling with the lengths of material in an attempt to start tying the apron in a loose bow. He'd barely started when warm, smooth hands batted his gently away.

Desmond flinched, not too much but just the right amount given the situation he was placed into and allowed the person to do up the ties on his apron. Considering what he had felt of the person's hand, being that soft he decided it was one of the girls. Because of the occasional brush of knuckle to his back and waistband of his work pants, he realised it could most likely be Tracy, perhaps, the young woman yet still two or three years his senior who enjoyed flirting with him.

When the apron was tied, Desmond was alerted by a gentle tug on the knot that had been formed. He turned around quickly, a thanks ready on his lips when his voice died in his throat. It was the stranger from the cafe. Without really thinking of his actions and their implications, i.e. never seeing the light of day should he kill this person and Vidic get wind of it, he slammed his fist into a surprisingly hard stomach, pain jolting up his arm because of the solid muscle he had hit. However, this was enough to startle the man, who staggered back half a step.

With a slight of hand, Desmond slipped a knife out of the inside of one his long sleeves, the work garment altered so he could hide almost any manner of weapon on him. Not even wasting a moment, he worked the other man's height against him as he tried to grab him, assassin skill and reflexes giving him the grace needed to simply duck behind the man, hook one foot around his ankle and drive his knee into the back of the man's knee, sending him down as Desmond used one hand to expertly pin both of his arms behind his back by gripping the almost feminine and slim wrists in a tight grip, his other hand holding the knife to his assailant's throat, moving to bend a leg so his foot could press against the man's neck.

"One reason. Give me just one reason or I will slit your throat without a second thought." Desmond lowered himself to hiss the threat into the man's ear, pressing the flat of the blade against the carotid artery, as if caressing his skin with the metal. He ignored the awkward and twisted position that this forced him into, not daring to either let go of his attacker's wrists or lift his foot from the restriction it was pressing into the man's back, keeping him on the floor.

The man did not reply but the man beneath him made a motion very close to some sort of vibration, the skin of his wrists humming and ever so gently thrumming underneath Desmond's fingertips. The crisp white dress shirt that the man was wearing slowly started to stain black, spreading outwards from the centre of his back.

Desmond pulled his foot away slowly, followed by the rest of his body, sure he hadn't hurt the man but yet still uncertain over whether or not what was dirtying the shirt was blood. He was given his answer as the man straightened with an almost familiar ease and grace he had just seen a few hours prior and as the stranger turned to face him, he underwent a strange shift which gave a glimpse of a writhing mass of _something_ that was tinged black and red and looked ominous.

Seeing just that, before the finishing result, Desmond relaxed immediately, sliding his knife back up his sleeve and swearing. "For _fucks sake_ Alex, what possessed you to try and scare the ever loving shit out of me? Has nothing I told you earlier on sunk in at all? I'm the most paranoid son of a bitch in Manhattan you jerk."

Alex, once the change had finished, had the decency to look both apologetic and sheepish. "I did not realise that you would react so negatively though now, when I review my actions, I know what I did would have undoubtedly set off your latent abilities."

"You stalked me for about three blocks and snuck up behind me in my work place. Not only that, but somehow you were wearing the face of a person I _have never seen before."_ Desmond folded his arms, raising an eyebrow at Alex as he tried to force the rush of adrenaline down. "How on _earth,_ when I have the senses and paranoia of not one but two assassins, was I _not_ supposed to act negatively? There was no way it _wouldn't_ have set me off."

Before Desmond could get an answer, there was the sound of faint humming from a little ways beyond the door. He grimaced, realising that Alex was neither allowed back where he was at the moment and that that fact could get him fired. Without thinking twice of it, he grabbed Alex by the front of his jacket and dragged him towards him. Desmond himself backed towards the wall, waited until his back was resting against it and then slipped his hands around Alex so he could shove them into the back pockets of his jeans, arms resting lightly against Alex's hips.

"Put your hands on my sides, round my neck, whatever, and tilt your head the opposite way to mine," Desmond whispered harshly. "You at least owe me this for scaring the crap out of me; I could lose my job if you were caught in here for no reason." The position the two were in made Desmond feel all sorts of uncomfortable, being a great lover of personal space, but as soon as this job was gone, then he had no excuse to get away from Vidic aside from assassination contracts. As soon as the tyrant heard of him sparing Dana Mercer's life, then even the contracts would dwindle and Desmond would be no more but a prisoner to Abstergo, to the Animus and to his mind.

Alex, thankfully, caught quickly onto what Desmond was suggesting, moving one hand to grasp the back of Desmond's neck very gently, as if afraid just the brush of skin would break Desmond's spine, his other hand settling on the wall next to Desmond's shoulder, twisted just so that his thumb pressed against the crisp work shirt as he murmured a soft; "Sorry." He was a little tense, his touches light. For how close and grabby he was getting while at the apartment, he was now acting as if just the slightest movement would scare Desmond off.

Desmond ignored this and simply tilted his head to the side and slightly up, watching Alex tilt his head down and to the other side slowly, close enough that Desmond could feel his cool breath on his face, soft exhales that were refreshingly minty, wondering for a brief and almost hysterical moment if his own breath smelt bad and if Alex could smell it across the small distance.

There was no more time to dwell on this, however, as the door opened, the room echoing with the sound of humming that cut off abruptly as the two were obviously seen.

"O-Oh, Desmond..." A high pitched, slightly hysterical giggle rang out and Desmond only hoped that his face looked as flushed as it felt because of this compromising position as he slowly turned his head to face the door, making sure to lick his lips and keeping his mouth slightly parted, as if he were dazed.

At seeing the women stood there, he had the decency to look chagrined. "Sorry Tracy..." Desmond slowly pulled one of his hands out of Alex's back pocket, scratching his head gently. Alex had moved to press his face to Desmond's neck, lips barely brushing the skin of his collarbone. Desmond tried to ignore this fact to the best of his ability, realising it probably wasn't intentional and that Alex was trying to keep his face hidden. However, it still made some of his muscles tense, his instincts screaming to him that he shouldn't let _anyone_ near his throat, a vulnerable place.

"N-No, it's okay...I mean, I am e-early and so are you...Oh, geez, um..." the flustered woman in the doorway just quickly darted in, snatched up her apron and stumbled back out. "Carry on!" She tried to keep her voice cheery, though it went high pitched and cracked towards the end from embarrassment as she slammed the door shut behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Desmond tried to arch his neck away from Alex, whose mouth was still close to his skin, as he was starting to pass the boundaries of 'I'm Feeling Uncomfortable' and shot straight into 'I'm Freaking the Fuck Out'. His second hand had also slipped out from Alex's back pocket and gently pressed against his shoulder, a silent urge for him to step back.

Alex took the initiative and obliged, moving completely away through the motion of stepping backwards until there was a respectful distance (and a little more) between them. "I apologise for getting so close. I didn't want to be seen. My face has been plastered all over the city; I didn't want to be seen. I've been known as a terrorist for a long time."

"You don't need to explain yourself to me." Desmond's voice was a little more clipped than he would have liked it to be and he swallowed thickly, running his hands over his head and scratching behind his ear. "Before I forget, sorry for threatening your life, sorry for forcing you into that awkwardness there and I'm sure I should be sorry for a bunch of other things, but I can't think of what they are right now. If you want a drink tonight, then I'm working the left side of the bar. You should leave this room first, if you keep your hood up, no one will be any the wiser. Tracy would have spread the word by now."

Alex nodded silently and complacently to Desmond's words and instructions before asking tentatively, "'The Word'?"

"The word that Desmond Miles is flaming gay for a tall hooded man and was caught kissing him in the staffroom of the bar. However, I suppose that would be killing two birds with one stone as it is. Tracy isn't going to be asking me invasive questions about my personal life anymore."

"Ah. I understand." Alex nodded slowly before leaving the room without another word, just a lingering glance that he shot in Desmond's direction before it was blocked by the door swinging back into place because of its weight. There had been a contemplative expression on his normally passive face.

After Alex had left, Desmond waited for a few minutes, fiddling with his name tag and making sure that the knife up his sleeve had no way of falling out. Hopefully the bar wouldn't get too warm that night because he wouldn't be able to roll his sleeves up out of the way without cutting himself or losing the blade. Neither of the options were the greatest in Desmond's opinion.

Sighing softly, Desmond walked out into the bar, eyes scanning the seats by the side he was assigned to, automatically picking out where Alex was sat by the languid way he sat and leant against the bar. Plus the hood and jacket was a dead, dead giveaway. How nobody knew it was Alex Mercer, the previous number one terrorist in the states, Desmond did not know. When Alex lifted a hand in a semblance of a wave, Desmond gave a start, realising that he had been staring at the man. Alex had gestured without even looking in his direction, almost causing wariness to automatically jerk through Desmond's body.

Instead, Desmond chose to smile softly to himself and shoved his hands into his apron's pockets, leisurely making his way towards the side of the bar he tended. He got most of the way there when a hand reached over the counter and snagged his shirt at shoulder height, a tug gaining his attention.

Desmond let his eyes drift to the side and he came face to face with Shaun, whose hand then slid down to rest against Desmond's wrist. "What are you doing Desmond?" he murmured voice just loud enough to be heard over the pounding music. He'd had to lean in so he was better heard.

Shaun's answer was just a shrug from Desmond as the bartender lowered his eyes. Eventually he got a vocal response. "I don't know what I'm doing Shaun. I can't tell you what I might be doing either. What's the point of getting two people into trouble, when one is just fine, hmm?"

"Desmond..." Shaun began, squeezing his wrist gently. "Don't do anything stupid, or I might just kill you myself if the situation doesn't do you in."

"Excuse me. Let him go." Alex suddenly interjected, pressing his fingertips against the skin of Desmond's arm above where Shaun was holding him. Shaun had stiffened, but snappishly asked, "Why should I? What's he to you?"

"I believe my sister and I spoke enough with him both last night, and at a cafe earlier during the day. Besides, I have knowledge that you are both his ex, and violent considering how hard you hit him prior to today."

Desmond tried to hide how pleased he was by Alex's words and acting. He seemed to know that Shaun didn't know that Alex knew. Desmond himself didn't want to Shaun to realise how much Alex had been told, and Alex was respecting that.

Shaun gave Desmond a look that seemed to ask 'your ex? Really?' before he sighed heavily and turned to Alex again. "Maybe you should back off since this is clearly a private and personal conversation. You do not have any right to interrupt us."

"It's his place of work. Unless you want the police being contacted, I suggest you don't make a scene." Alex raised an eyebrow and Shaun tutted, looking to the side and shoving Desmond's arm away from him as he walked towards the door of the bar.

"Thanks," Desmond murmured. "But you probably knew you probably didn't have to do that."

"I just wanted to see Shaun for myself," Alex replied rather mildly. "Also, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind the previous night for hitting you, though now I know it was a ruse. While I'm not above violence myself, I do not enjoy observing it being utilised on someone undeserving such as yourself."

Desmond couldn't help but chuckle, walking down the bar and watching Alex mirror his movements on the other side until he was sat on the seat he had been on previously. "Believe me Alex, I don't believe I'm undeserving. There are many things I've done that have deserved punches and perhaps even worse."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to elaborate for me?"

Desmond looked to his hands as he kept himself busy starting to make Alex a drink. "I'll only tell you some things. Other's I'm not proud of and even more I don't want to remember any more. In their own way, they're all painful for me to remember. The one's that are in Altair and Ezio's memories have a risk of pulling me in, so you'll have to keep an eye out for that if we get far enough in our conversation for me to mention it." He slid across a glass of the drink he had made. "Don't worry about paying for anything I give you tonight. It can all go on your 'tab'."

Alex gently touched his fingertips to the edge of the glass as he stared into the darkly coloured liquid. He didn't ask anything, but Desmond knew what he wanted to ask. Though Alex wasn't human, his curiosity was that and even more.

Before Desmond could speak, there was a call for him from down the bar and he signalled to Alex, who nodded in return, despite his eyes not even facing Desmond's direction. Desmond walked down the bar, musing over his thoughts. It would be an understatement to say that he was worried about what Alex's involvement in his life would cause. Whatever the outcome, he just knew that it wouldn't be pretty. Not with a worldwide organisation such as the Templars, and a former biological terrorist such as Alex Mercer.

* * *

><p><strong>DISCLAIMER:<strong>I do not own Assassin's Creed or PROTOTYPE. They and their characters belong to UBISOFT and ACTIVISION respectively.

I'm sorry, but it appears to me that this chapter is a little shorter than the one before. I hope this isn't a trend. I had the idea of updating about once a month, but I have exams that I have to revise a lot for coming up in less than a month's time. This means that I might not update until June or so. Thanks for all your support so far though!


	4. Just A Little Notice

To those of you who care, sorry about the false alarm (of this post) and for the long wait, I thought I should let you know that I'm rewriting this story! It's only three chapters so hopefully you won't have to wait that long but because it's been a year (sorry again!) I've realised that my writing style has changed so I'd like to rewrite it all and make it flow better and sound better (to me and hopefully you too).

Please still have patience and once again, sorry for this being a notice and not a chapter!


	5. Another Notice!

Hi all! Thanks for your patience and sorry for taking so long, but, finally (!) the rewrite has begun! You'll find the rewritten first chapter under a new story (it seemed easier to do it that way instead of completely revamping the current one) so thank you once again for continued interest and managing to wait this long!

(I'm so sorry for that.)


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